Wonder
by Onyx.Blaze
Summary: Sometimes i wonder who they could have been. What they could have done. And i wonder, why did i forsake them?


Just something that's been swimming around in my head for a while- obviously from Orihime's point of view. Tell me what you think!

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Sometimes, as I lie awake at night, watching the shifting shadows on the walls, I wonder.

I wonder about the things that might have been, the things that could have come to be had it been a little different. Things that would have been had I just stood and let my voice be known; things that slipped through my fingers as I watched silently from the sidelines, too much a coward to intervene.

I wonder of the lives I could have changed, the lives I could have saved, if only I had allowed myself to act. I wonder who they could have been, what they could have done, if only I had saved them. If only I had helped them.

I wonder if they would forgive me for forsaking them, knowing how I regretted it so. No. I don't wonder that. I know they would not. I wouldn't either. I wonder how anyone could forgive another for so easily forsaking their soul, their pain, their despair.

I wonder if I could have healed them, healed the broken souls that I could see crying out for help to me from behind their eyes. I wonder if I could have made the others see them as I did, as the people they were, as the ones who hunted endlessly but were never sated.

I wonder how they looked upon them. Those they labeled so fiercely as monsters. I wonder if they felt any remorse as they hunted them mercilessly, as they slaughtered them heartlessly. I wonder if they thought of their own hand in the creating of those very same monsters. If they ever once stopped to think 'Had I been just a bit more diligent, would I have noticed the soul barely hanging on just down the street? Would I have been there in time to save it before it was corrupted, blackened, torn asunder?' I wonder how they could look upon them so detachedly and condemn them all with a single word.

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Hollow.

I wonder sometimes, what does that word mean? I look at it at times, and I think of it as its definition. Hollow- having a cavity, gap, or space within… Hollow- without substance or character… Hollow- devoid of truth or validity; spacious... Hollow- a void; an emptiness…

Other times I think of it as a label. I think of it as an accusation to try to justify the transgressions we've made against them. That's all it is really, in this case; a crimson brand upon the pure white of a soul. I wonder what exact thoughts go through their heads, when they slaughter them. I wonder if there are any who think as I do, but are just as cowardly as I.

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I wonder tonight, if those closest to me saw the same things I did. If they saw even a tiny fragment of what I had. I wonder it Kurosaki looked into those blue eyes of his enemy as they shredded each other, and saw the same things I did. I wonder if I will ever have the courage to ask him.

Perhaps I will, one day. Perhaps I could look a friend in the face and ask him if he saw whom he slew for what he truly was. If he looked into those battle- maddened eyes of that hollow, and saw more than just blood-lust and insanity. Will he ever know? The reasons behind that proud, proud mans actions as I do? Will he ever know that behind the bluest eyes of the panther lay naught but desperation? Will he?

Will he know the reason that man fought so proudly, so relentlessly was just to prove something? As I looked into those eyes and saw it in its rawest form I knew. Grimmjow fought to prove something. He fought to prove to himself that he wasn't weak. That his soul was worth something, that he wasn't worthless. He fought so desperately to prove himself, even if no one would look upon him. Because all he needed was to know for himself. As long as he knew, it was good enough for him.

I remember, as the blood splattered the sand, and the blades clashed angrily. I knew I should stop them, that I should save them both. In the end, I suppose, Kurosaki saved this one a bit. When that proud man refused to give in, even in the face of defeat, the shinigami gave him a taste of what he needed all along. In letting him see the respect of a fellow warrior, the king learned that he didn't need to win to be worth something. But in the end, it was too late to lend him salvation, as the final spray of blood came from the hand of his own so- called comrade.

I wonder, yet again what he could have been. That strong, proud man. Could he have changed, had I saved him? Could he have become someone others could look to had I healed him? I wonder, if I have deprived the world of someone who could have been great. Of someone who I may have been able to look to as a comrade. What could have been, had I taken action, I will never know. But I will always wonder.

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I wonder now, as I look into the darkness and see the haunting remnants of those who could have been. I wonder, as I remember green eyes and pale skin as he reached out to me. I wonder again, if Kurosaki saw what I did.

Did he see, beyond the cold, calculating eyes and to what lay within? Did he know the thoughts beneath those, cold, jaded eyes? I remember, when I first looked upon him, I could not see it myself. Ulquiorra was good at hiding such things, I realize now. But he could not hide it forever. I noticed, a few days in, the beginnings of curiosity lurking within him. And as he questioned, I saw what drove him. Confusion led him to act as he did. He yearned to understand, to know why. And so he questioned.

I think, I failed him the most, in the end. Because I did start to save him, for a while. He asked, and I answered. He inquired, and I explained. For a while I thought he was beginning to get it, but when everyone came for me, I saw that he didn't. He lashed out in his confusion, and I lashed out in my anger. I may have ruined everything we had built up till then, I realize, in that one single lash.

I saw his confusion flourish, in that next following moment, and I knew I had broken him again. It was too late to fix it by then, he was gone, and I was left alone in that room. The next time I saw him I tried, I tried to fix it, but alas fate had something else in store. I should have called out, I could have halted the fight if I had.

In the end, as I watched that fearsome dragon fade to ash, I gave one last try, and in his eyes I saw a bit of understanding. Alas, not nearly enough, but just enough to make up for the amount that I broke him with my own hands.

I wonder, what he could have been, had I saved him. What could that ruthless, cold man have been, had I not destroyed him? Perhaps he was yet another great thing that I have again deprived the world of. Perhaps he could have changed. He may have been a protector, a friend to some. He may have been able to look at me with those endless green eyes of his and hold me as a lover would. I wonder, just what I could have saved, had I healed him. I will never know, but again, I will forever wonder…

I'll speak these words I think, deep in the shadows of the night, one day. I'll let my voice be heard; I'll act, and make a change. Perhaps I will save someone, heal someone one day, as I could have with those before. Perhaps they will make the world a better place than it is now. One day, I will.

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But for now, I can do naught but wonder.

Wonder of the things that could have been…

Had I only…

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End file.
